Brace Yourself
by C-chanYagami
Summary: My explaination for that black thing on Tai's arm in season o1. Tai POV


Kari: C-chan_Yagami does not own Digimon. She wants to, but she just doesn't. She thanks the owners for the use of their characters.  
  
(A/N: slight Taito by the end, but it's not noticeable unless you're a rabid Taito fan. Which I am. Yes, I've included the non-existing siblings.)  
  
  
  
Brace Yourself  
  
  
I know this is probably not exactly what you wanted to see when you came looking for a story about Yagami Taichi, but here I am. And I'm gonna tell you about that black thing on my left arm. You know what I'm talking about. You always assume it's a shadow. Well, it's not. If you look close enough, you'll notice I don't wear it later, in what you call 'season o2'. It's been replaced by a yellow wristband. Oh, I haven't actually told you what it is; have I? Sorry. It's a brace. Yeah, I'll give you a moment to accept the fact that I actually have a weakness. Kari says my fangirls (I didn't know I had fangirls...I thought only Matt got those) will find it 'endearing' that I'm flawed. Whatever. In 'season o1' as it's apparently known, I needed the full brace, but I got better, so by season o2 I only needed the smaller yellow brace.  
You'll probably want to know how I got the brace, huh? Well, funny story, I got it the same day I got my goggles. Yeah, I'll tell you about that, too, and you'll probably see why it's so important to me that I gave them to Davis. But I'm getting ahead of myself.  
Eh...all right, I was...well, I was eleven when I first went to the digital world, and I had the brace then...but I didn't have it when I was seven, and Kari and I saw that fight with Parrotmon, so that means I was...let's say about nine? Yeah, nine. All right, I was nine. I had a day off from school and Kari didn't, so I started my day gloating. She ignored me, sweetheart that she is...she has no idea how much I really love her. I'll have to tell her sometime. But anyway, I was bothering her, and as soon as Mom left to take her to school, I slipped out. Dad had the day off from work, but, as I was nine, he let me play outside by myself. I scampered off (hey, I have some good vocabulary! High school must finally be kicking in) with my soccer ball to kick it against the fence that separated the yard of the apartment building from the street.  
I was only out there for a few minutes before I got bored with my game. Joe says I have the attention span of a gnat. I think he's right. Whatever, I got bored with the monotonous kicking and found a rare treat on the other side of the yard: a climbing tree. I grinned and clambered over and up the branches. Well, you saw how I got out of bed every morning. Needless to say, I fell out of the tree.  
But wait! You thought this is when I hurt myself; didn't you? Well, nyah, you're wrong. I was fine, I landed on my butt from, like, the second branch. And, no, my dad didn't wrench my arm when I told him how I tore my shirt. He's not like that.  
Anyway, I went inside, Dad shook his head in disbelief and helped me clean my few scrapes. I went to jump down from the counter and, you guessed it, that's when I hurt myself. My shirtsleeve got caught on the handle to the cabinet and twisted my wrist back and up. I heard a popping sound and before I felt the pain, and I remember thinking that can't be all right. Well, then the pain came. And I won't say that it wasn't as bad as you'd think; it was all that and worse. I was too scared even to cry. Dad flipped out plenty for both of us. I think he had me to the emergency room in about twelve seconds. And the hospital was fifteen miles away.  
We had been sitting in the ER for maybe ten minutes when I finally realized what happened. Let's call it a delayed reaction. Whatever it was, I screamed bloody murder. Dad jumped about six feet out of his chair and pulled me into his lap to let me whimper. We were taken into an exam room minutes later.  
I sat pretty still while the doctors X - rayed my hand. I didn't want to make anything worse than it was. Naive as I was, I assumed I was in trouble. I figured the less trouble I caused, the better.  
Well, it turned out I hadn't broken anything, as was our original thought. I had torn a ligament. I think I would have preferred breaking my wrist. That would have healed in a few weeks and been weak for only a few more. But lucky me, I got a - no, I didn't get a cast...I don't think. I would have remembered that. I must have gotten an Ace bandage kind of thing. I know I got a sling. That rather hindered my soccer playing, and I was less than happy. But again; ahead of myself.  
Mom met us in the ER a bit later, crying. She hugged me so I could hardly breathe. I don't really remember what she said, but she said a lot. She told me she had been at home for a bit before she got the call. Matt had been by. That both piqued my interest and deflated me a bit. Not only had I gotten hurt and lost the chance to make pee wee soccer that year, but I had missed my play date with my friend.  
Well, there were a lot of thank yous and a few tears and we were on our way. The ride home was uneventful - literally, so I'll skip to when we got home.  
We found a visitor on what would have been our front steps - if we had front steps. Matt was sitting, chin in his hands, waiting for us to arrive. He jumped when he saw us and picked up the bag he had next to him. Mom went in and Dad went to Matt's apartment a few doors down to pick up Kari, who was playing with TK.  
Matt and I spoke briefly, but what do nine - year - olds have to talk about, really? I can't remember if I asked him or if he showed me, but eventually, our attention was brought to the bag he held. He opened it and let me pull out the contents.  
I held in my hands my goggles. Most people think the goggles I had when I saw Parrotmon are the same I gave to Davis. Not true. Those were just the ones my mom bought me. I'm not saying I didn't treasure them, but it was a different treasuring. Anyway, those broke when I fell from the tree. Matt said my mom had told him, and he decided to spend the last few dollars he had to buy me a new pair. I was touched, as touched as a nine - year - old can be.  
All right, this is where I get all poetic and prophetic. This event seemed to show a great deal of courage and friendship. It took courage to approach me with such a gift, as we hadn't been the greatest friends. It helped strengthen our friendship. These qualities later became our crests, the best qualities we possessed four years before we received the crests. I got courage and Matt got friendship.  
What does this have to do with Davis? I saw in him a great combination of these two qualities, courage and friendship. The event of my receiving the goggles held such a mixture, so I thought it was only appropriate. So now Davis has these tokens of...appreciation; I guess.  
But we have to loop back to the brace. When we saw the doctor, he told me I was good to go. But for a few weeks after, my left wrist was really weak. I could barely use it. It never hurt, it was just weak. So we went back to the doctor and he told us my wrist had healed funny, and it was going to be weak for a good portion of my life; it may not ever get fully normal again. So he gave me the brace. I could have had a really cool color, but Matt convinced me to get the black. He said it was mysterious or something; I forget. All I remember is that the brace worked beautifully; as long as I wore it, I could do almost as much as normally.  
Eventually, my wrist got better. Once I turned thirteen, I was able to ditch the long, black brace and get the smaller, yellow one you see me with today. I don't wear it for school, though. I don't really need it; I'm right handed and I've learned to use my right hand for all things school - related. But I do wear the brace any other time, especially for sports.  
So that's my big flaw. Do you find it 'endearing'? Ha. Ah, whatever. I'm just glad I can still play soccer. 


End file.
